Today would be Jones’ 14th birthday. Tomorrow it will be one year since Attila arrived. Last year, it was the first of Jones’ birthdays without him after more than 12 years. I had cried every day for five months, despite taking up an exciting new job, travelling, trying to be with those I loved, teaching… Continue reading
Put your headphones on. Turn the volume up loud. Live the experience.
I look at the unknown sky of the new year. It is so blue it seems almost impossible that anything bad ever happened. All of my mornings used to start the same way. Blackbirds would line up on the trellis of the roof garden opposite my window. The Beast sat there close to me and stared outside, a daily, intense standoff with the blackbirds. And he made that chirping sound with his throat, both curiosity and hunt, a salute to the morning. Yesterday I took a walk in the park adorned with their beautiful presence, and I suddenly realised that no blackbird has ever showed up again on the roof since he died two months ago. Not one, not once.